Ruby or diamond or dark amethyst;

A jewelled chain, in many a winding wreath,

Wreathing her gold brocade.

Before the Church,

That venerable structure now no more *

On the sea-brink, another train they met,
No strangers, nor unlooked for ere they came,
Brothers to some, still dearer to the rest;
Each in his hand bearing his cap and plume,
And, as he walked, with modest dignity
Folding his scarlet mantle. At the gate
They join; and slowly up the bannered aisle
Led by the choir, with due solemnity

Range round the altar. In his vestments there
The Patriarch stands; and, while the anthem flows,
Who can look on unmoved-the dream of

Just now fulfilling! Here a mother weeps,
Rejoicing in her daughter. There a son

Blesses the day that is to make her his;

years

While she shines forth through all her ornament,
Her beauty heightened by her hopes and fears.

At length the rite is ending. All fall down,

* San Pietro di Castello, the Patriarchal Church of Venice.

All of all ranks; and, stretching out his hands,
Apostle-like, the holy man proceeds

To give the blessing—not a stir, a breath;
When hark, a din of voices from without,
And shrieks and groans and outcries as in battle!
And lo, the door is burst, the curtain rent,
And armed ruffians, robbers from the deep,
Savage, uncouth, led on by BARBERIGO
And his six brothers in their coats of steel,
Are standing on the threshold! Statue-like
Awhile they gaze on the fallen multitude,
Each with his sabre up, in act to strike;
Then, as at once recovering from the spell,
Rush forward to the altar, and as soon

Are gone again-amid no clash of arms
Bearing away the maidens and the treasures.

Where are they now ?-ploughing the distant waves,

Their sails out-spread and given to the wind,
They on their decks triumphant. On they speed,
Steering for ISTRIA; their accursed barks

(Well are they known,* the galliot and the galley) Freighted, alas, with all that life endears!

*

'Una galera e una galeotta.'-M. SANUTO.

The richest argosies were poor to them!

Now hadst thou seen along that crowded shore
The matrons running wild, their festal dress
A strange and moving contrast to their grief;
And through the city, wander where thou wouldst,
The men half armed and arming-every where
As roused from slumber by the stirring trump;
One with a shield, one with a casque and spear;
One with an axe severing in two the chain
Of some old pinnace. Not a raft, a plank,
But on that day was drifting. In an hour
Half VENICE was afloat. But long before,
Frantic with grief and scorning all controul,
The Youths were gone in a light brigantine,
Lying at anchor near the Arsenal;

Each having sworn, and by the holy rood,
To slay or to be slain.

And from the tower

The watchman gives the signal. In the East

A ship is seen, and making for the Port;

Her flag St. Mark's.

And now she turns the point,

Over the waters like a sea-bird flying!

Ha, 'tis the same, 'tis theirs! from stern to prow

Green with victorious wreaths, she comes to bring

All that was lost.

Coasting, with narrow search,

FRIULI like a tiger in his spring,

They had surprised the Corsairs where they lay*
Sharing the spoil in blind security

And casting lots-had slain them, one and all,
All to the last, and flung them far and wide
Into the sea, their proper element ;

Him first, as first in rank, whose name so long
Had hushed the babes of VENICE, and who yet,
Breathing a little, in his look retained

The fierceness of his soul.†

Thus were the Brides

Lost and recovered; and what now remained

But to give Thanks? Twelve breast-plates and twelve

By the

crowns,

young Victors to their Patron-Saint

Vowed in the field, inestimable gifts

Flaming with gems and gold, were in due time

Laid at his feet; and ever to preserve

* In the lagoons of Caorlo. The creek is still called Il Porto delle Donzelle.

+ Paululùm etiam spirans,' &c.-SALLUST. Bell. Catal. 59. They are described by Evelyn and La Lande, and were to be seen in the Treasury of St. Mark very lately.

The memory of a day so full of change,
From joy to grief, from grief to joy again,
Through many an age, as oft as it came round,
'Twas held religiously. The Doge resigned
His crimson for pure ermine, visiting

At earliest dawn St. Mary's silver shrine;
And through the city, in a stately barge

Of gold, were borne with songs and symphonies
Twelve ladies young and noble.* Clad they were
In bridal white with bridal ornaments,

Each in her glittering veil; and on the deck,
As on a burnished throne, they glided by ;
No window or balcóny but adorned
With hangings of rich texture, not a roof

But covered with beholders, and the air

Vocal with joy. Onward they went, their oars
Moving in concert with the harmony,

Through the Rialto † to the Ducal Palace,

* Le quali con trionfo si conducessero sopra una piatta pe' canali di Venezia con suoni e canti.'-M. SANUTO.

+ An English abbreviation. Rialto is the name, not of the bridge, but of the island from which it is called; and the Venetians say Il ponte di Rialto, as we say Westminster-bridge.

In that island is the Exchange; and I have often walked there as on classic ground. In the days of Antonio and Bassa